


Lost Under the Surface

by Zendaya



Category: Agent's of SHIELD, Marvel
Genre: Family Reunion, Gen, How the hell did SHIELD miss this?, Pain, Skye's family, Torture, Winter soldier reference, Wtf is going on here?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:17:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zendaya/pseuds/Zendaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heartbreak. Deaths. Torture. Been there done it. Hell I've bought the frickin t-shirt. Wait what the fuck do I need a t-shirt for? Callum (better known as Max)- the assassin with a better hit-rate than Romanov and Barton put together. Seeing his best friend die before his very eyes he is caught by Agents of SHIELD. What happens when Skye recognises him? What happens when the dead come back to haunt him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Time Stood Still (Bring me the Horizon: Sleep walking)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first fanfiction and I am a major fan of Marvel's Agents of SHIELD (if you haven't seen Captain America 2 I think you should totally watch it, it's awesome!)
> 
> I'm more of a reader, not a writer so constructive criticism is welcome, also, I would really appreciate it if you guys could review and follow too.
> 
> Thanks and ENJOY :D

_My secrets are burning a hole through my heart and my bones catch a fever/ When it cuts you up this deep it's hard to find a way to breathe. Time stood still the way it did before/ It's like I'm sleepwalking/ Fell into another hole again/ It's like I'm sleepwalking. I'm at the edge of the world/ Where do I go from here? Do I disappear? Edge of the world- Should I sink or swim or simply disappear?_

* * *

The glock 26 fits snugly in my hands- as if it was made for me and me alone. Knowing the person who supplied it to me, it probably was. I hold it loosely by the handle in one hand and weigh it. Perfect balance.

I focus on the task ahead, clear my mind of any doubts. Yes, I promised myself I wouldn't kill again but too much has happened to the people I care about. Too many have gone missing. Too many have been hurt. Too many are... gone. I can't honour my own promise.

"Callie" I whisper, my voice hoarse with pain, my mind far away with memories- the first time I felt utter desperation and despair.

I shake my head to clear it. No time to dwell on the past. I'm a professional; I should be able to keep my feelings under wrap. Mentally pushing all my memories into a deep, dark corner of my mind, I lean against the tree I'm hiding behind and load my pistol. 10 bullets are all I need. 1 shot for each guard. I'm not worrying about the M16 Assault Rifle each guard carries- it's not like they'll have the chance to use their machine guns.

I steady my breathing and sprint from the edge of the forest where I had been hiding for the past hour- staking the place out, till I reach the van I saw arrive earlier. I mentally check my objectives:

Scout the area. CHECK

Confirm the number of hostiles in the vicinity. CHECK

Eliminate the enemy without the Clairvoyant finding out.

Enter the warehouse and get my partner out.

Looking around I realise it's now or never, my time-window is slowly disappearing. I attach a silencer onto the end of the gun to quieten the shots. I spring from behind the van and shoot at the two guards patrolling the perimeter. They drop. I run forward and take out three snipers. This is too easy. Nobody has even come out of the warehouse to investigate. Five down, five to go. As I get walk towards the entrance, my instinct screams at me to duck. I duck just in time as a bullet whizzes millimetres above my head.

I am suddenly dragged to the floor and am able to register a weight on my back before my head is grabbed from the back and smashed into the ground. Again and again. And again. Only, the third time I'm ready. I roll over and feel the guard underneath me. He lets go of my head and I spring up. He is fast but I'm the best. As his arm reaches for my neck my hand smashes into the base of his nose and from the satisfying crack that follows I know his nasal bone is fractured.

He screams in pain but I am already there: covering his mouth with my hands to stop him from making any sounds which could alert the others to my position. I snake my hands around his neck and twist hard. He falls to the floor but I catch him and lower him quietly- no need to make any more noise than necessary. Killing with my bare hands- without the aid of a gun- should make me feel different. Any emotion- even disgust or interest, maybe, is more welcome to the emotionless depth of my heart. As I stare at the man I realise I don't care. He is collateral damage. Damage I was trained to contain.

And then there were four... I jog to the doorway of the building and enter. Mysteriously, there is no actual door, I suppose they must have made someone stand guard there, much more effective than a plank of wood- their own human shield. And then it hits me- OH SHIT! If there's no guard standing I must have killed him. How long till they realise...?

I run in the building, no thought for self preservation or safety. I can't let them take him. I can't lose him. Not again. The simple rectangular building it looked like outside was a lie. Mazes of corridors and hallways lead off here and there- probably made to confuse their prisoners had they ever managed to escape. I stand confused at the end of a corridor; left or right? In a movie the hero would choose a random direction, wish for the best and accomplish everything. But this isn't a movie is it? And I'm not a hero.

As a stand, unsure, I hear a blood curdling scream. My feet respond instantly and before I know it, I am standing at a door. Inside is the source of the pain. And then I hear it...

"Please", he whispers, "I can't take it anymore, just stop"

I'd recognise that voice anywhere. I run into the room and am horrified at what I see but don't let that stop me from shooting the man responsible. He is standing over Mason- who is handcuffed to a chair- with a knife in his hand. A knife with fresh blood on. My brain registers Mason's torn shirt and the blood seeping from deep cuts in his chest.

Anger courses through my veins at the thought of what this bastard has done and is doing to my best friend. I pull the trigger and hold it, emptying the clip into his body. He is blown to the other side of the room on impact and I make sure he isn't going to get up. Ever again. I walk towards Mason, making sure to go slowly so as not to scare him.

"Hey, it's me man" I say, soothingly, "I got you, I'll get you outta here"

"Max?" he asks, surprised, "No, you can't be here. Max go. You have to GO!"

"Listen Mace, I'm not going anywhere without you dude, we had a deal remember? 'Till the end', we watch each other's backs, yeah?" I say, firmly. "Okay, I'm gonna go and see if I can find the keys for the handcuffs. You... urm, carry on doing your... thing. Just don't... go anywhere" I finish, lamely.

He laughs quietly. It's music to my ears.

"You're saying it like I've got places to go, people to see." He looks at me amused. I'm not stupid, I can tell he is trying to keep his own mind off his injuries but I file that away for later. The task at hand is to... Suddenly, he gasps.

"Behind you!"

A shot is fired from behind me and red splatters over Mason. I stare at him. I whirl around and aim the gun but suddenly it flies from my hand. Surprise flickers across my face and I mentally curse myself. There were three more Hydra agents. How could I forget them? They fan out in front of me, and attack from all sides. Parrying and deflecting their blows, I realise that none of them have guns. Why? I don't dwell on that fact for too long. More pressing matters are demanding my time right now. Like how the fuck do I kill them?

I look around and spot a tray of sharp instruments covered in blood. Mason's blood. I look back at the agents but am too late. A foot catches me in the face and I am thrown across the floor.

Kicks are delivered with brutal force to my whole body but I zone the pain out. An agent grabs me around my neck and throws me across the cell. That was his biggest mistake. My hand reaches for the tray and I pick up a deadly looking scalpel. I feel sick holding it knowing the last time it was used was on Mason. I spring from my position on the floor and throw the scalpel at the closes agent to me. It embeds himself in his eye and the man drops dead as I knew he would. I never miss.

The something bizarre happens. The other two agents back away from the dead body as though it carries a contagious disease. I realise everything a split second before it happens and throw myself over Mason- his chair tips back and both of use hit the floor.

BANG!

The corpse explodes and the two men who tried to escape but never quite made it are obliterated. Heat blisters my back and I feel a second of flames licking my clothes but then it's gone as though nothing happened. The only people in the cell are me and Mason. Nothing is left of the three guards.

I get up and pick Mason's chair up. The handcuffs have broken so the swing open to free his chaffed and infected wrists. I pick him off the chair and lower him to the floor.

That's when Mason starts vomiting blood...


	2. Chapter Two: I walk Alone (Green Day: Boulevard of Broken Dreams)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreak. Deaths. Torture. Been there done it. Hell I've bought the frickin t-shirt. Wait what the fuck do I need a t-shirt for? Callum (better known as Max)- the assassin with a better hit-rate than Romanov and Barton put together. Seeing his best friend die before his very eyes he is caught by Agents of SHIELD. What happens when Skye recognises him? What happens when the dead come back to haunt him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, seems I have quote a lot of hits but I don't know if you guys like this or not. I would love it if you could review, even if you don't like it just to let me know your opinions.  
> I'm going on a limb here and posting this chapter in hope that it will convince you to take out half a minute to review...  
> Enjoy :D

_“I’m walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind/ On the border line of the edge and where I walk alone. Read between the lines what’s fucked up and everything’s alright/ Check my vital signs to know I’m still alive and I walk alone.”_

* * *

 

I can hear screaming. Someone repeating the same word again and again: NO! It takes me a while to realise it’s me. Kneeling over Mason and holding his face in my hands, I’m emptying my lungs in hope that it’s enough. It’s not. I can see from the way his chest refuses to rise steadily. By the way his face is draining of colour. His soul is slipping away and there is nothing I can do to help him. My best friend. The only person I have been able to trust during my worst times.

His breath hitches as pain moves from the gunshot in his abdomen to his chest and I don’t miss the sharp intake of breath. _Fuck_ , I think, _I’m not trained with this._ The irony doesn’t go amiss either, Karma’s come knocking and Mason has had to pay for my immorality. _I can take life without thinking twice about it but I can do nothing to save a life._

I shake his shoulders lightly. “Ace.” He doesn’t respond. I try again, “Ace please. Shit. Oh God. I’ve gotta move you”, his blood stains my hands and my soul, “I gotta stop the bleeding man.”

I stand over him and hope he realises what I intend to do, taking my time to hook my arms under his arms and pull him up. Groaning loudly from the pain yet still conscious, Mason leans against me as I lead him to the nearest wall. After propping him against the wall I realise the real extent of his injuries. There is blood pouring from the bullet hole that ripped his stomach apart, blood trickling form his mouth and forehead, burns and gashes litter his face and body and I’m not even counting the lacerations to his chest from his most recent torture session. Judging by the wince he so blatantly tries to hide as I reach to unbutton his shirt, I can easily bet a couple of broken ribs belong in that seemingly endless collection of damage that promises his demise tonight.

“Wound?” he manages to choke out.

“shhhhh”. I reach for the last button on his shirt and open it to reveal the one thing I was hoping to avoid: a hole in his lower body. I take my shirt off, crumple it and hold it against his stomach. I try not to put too much pressure on it but the amount of blood he’s losing is seriously freaking me out.

“Did you just say wound?” He glares at me and I sigh. Even half dead, my buddy Mason is as impossible as ever.

“Listen bro. I’ve come too far, pissed too many people off to let you off the hook now. Hang in there.”

“Do you really think I’m gonna let you change the subject?” he smirks at me, shifts his weight over to his right side and winces, “Give me a full damage report.” When I hesitate, he rolls his eyes. “Come on man, don’t make me say pretty please”

I take a deep breath and say, “You lost a lot of blood, too much to be sure, but I think you might make it” I lie.

He stares into my eyes and I feel naked in front of him, as though he is looking into my soul.

“Don’t lie to me”, he croaks, blood dribbling out of his mouth, “But don’t say it either. I don’t want to hear it. Just...” He hesitates, the pain worsening. “Just look after Venice, she’s all I’ve got left. Make sure you tell her...” He gasps, his back arches and his breath comes out in shudders. His end is near. “Please, I can’t leave her like this, make sure she knows her dad loved her” He grabs my hand, “Max, promise me you’ll tell her that she was my everything... Please...” He pleads.

With a steady voice I tell him, “I promise, you forget her weird ass daddy made me her godfather”, I try a smile but it comes out wrong, fake. “I promise you that I will look after her and spoil her so bad she will never want anything and not have it.”

He chuckles, “I’m almost scared about leaving my baby girl with you now, you’re not exactly the best of role models”.

Amused, I reply: “I learnt from the best”, giving him a _very_ pointed look.

Mason chooses to ignore me and instead leans against the wall with his eyes closed. He starts to hum a tune and it takes me a while to realise it’s ‘Mad World’ by Gary Jules...

_All around me are familiar faces/ Worn out places, worn out faces/ Bright and early for the daily races/ Going nowhere, going nowhere._

_Their tears are filling up their glasses/ No expression, no expression/ Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow/ Now tomorrow, no tomorrow._

_I find it kind of funny/ I find it kind of sad/ The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had/ I find it hard to tell you/ I find it hard to take/ When people run in circles is a very, very/ Mad world, mad world._

_Children waiting for the day they feel good/ Happy birthday, happy birthday/ Made to feel the way that every child should/ Sit and listen, sit and listen._

_Went to school and I was very nervous/ No one knew me, no one knew me/ Hello teacher tell me, what’s my lesson? Look right through me, look right through me._

_I find it kind of funny/ I find it kind of sad/ The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had/ I find it hard to tell you/ I find it hard to take/ When people run in circles is a very, very/ Mad world, mad world._

Tears fall down his face as he opens his eyes and looks at me. Without realising, I have also started to cry.

“Don’t get caught up in all this shit. We got out, me and you; remember that. Stay out.”

With a final breath, he smiles and closes his eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time check out the picture I got for the character of Max and tell me what you think. If you guys have a better pic you think I should use just leave me a link... :D
> 
> http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRCryRDczpjxt2duhxizuJy_m_aUt8OvM5E4I_-epbr9O5Jbh2kEA
> 
> And guys I know, there's no agents of SHIELD or Skye yet but its coming in the next couple of chapters... maybe even the next, you never know... unless you review.... MWAHAHAHAHAHA... *coughs* okay weird moment over... :D


	3. Chapter Three: The Pain Inside (Blood on the Dancefloor: I Hope You Choke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreak. Deaths. Torture. Been there done it. Hell I've bought the frickin t-shirt. Wait what the fuck do I need a t-shirt for? Callum (better known as Max)- the assassin with a better hit-rate than Romanov and Barton put together. Seeing his best friend die before his very eyes he is caught by Agents of SHIELD. What happens when Skye recognises him? What happens when the dead come back to haunt him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, dunno when I can next update, snowed in under work and exam pressure. This is an extra long chapter to make up for it. Review please... 
> 
> Disclaimer- I don't own any of the Marvel characters, only Max, Ace, Jay and Russell.

_This world is just so fucked up, my life is just so messed up!/ Nothing makes sense in a world that is so dead. The bleeding in my heart are from these stitches that are falling apart/ You make me sick from all this shit/ How could you ever do this? I gave you my heart and you just ripped it apart/ I tasted your blood and you just wasted my love. You threw it away/ It was so fragile and fray._

* * *

 

I let myself go for the first time in 4 years. I sob shamelessly, draped over his dead body. Only once before have I felt such despair, hopelessness and anger. Guilt threatens to destroy me as the ‘what if’s’ start to creep in: what if I had gotten here earlier? What if I had killed _all_ the guards and done my job properly? What if? What if? What if...?

Feeling the bile rise up my throat, I jerk away from Mason’s corpse. Just in time. I vomit on the floor. The beginnings of a headache are starting to form- a sign that I need to stop over- stressing myself. _Keep it together._ I have to stop myself from falling apart, for the sake of his daughter, and for my own sake. But at this moment in time I can’t look away from the carcass in front of me. Even dead: the gentle smile sitting on his lips, the way his arms are wrapped around his waist. I know that had his eyes been open, there would be the unmistakeable twinkle of sarcasm- his way of calling somebody an idiot without opening his mouth.

Suppressing the sobs that threaten to break lose doesn’t work and as I sit there, broken, I sob my heart out as I remember all the good moments we shared, all the bad times we had each others’ backs- never again. Fury bubbles deep inside me as I think about what I’m going to do when I find the people responsible. Torture... and then a _very_ slow death.

I gather all the rage within and channel it. An ear-splitting scream of anguish and loss follows. By the time it’s finished, my voice is hoarse and my throat sore.

The sound of footsteps wakes me up from my slumber. I didn’t even realise I was asleep. No, not asleep, more like a trance. My body was in a daze to allow my brain to catch up with the events of today, to give my body a chance to rest without compromising my position or state.

Without pondering too much on who is outside- I can take anyone one- I gaze upon the body of my fallen comrade once again, for the very last time. I’m not stupid; I know I can’t take the body with me. Oh what I’d give to be able to bury him, but that’s a luxury I’m afraid I can’t afford. My life or his body is the choice I’m struck with. I’m alive and he’s dead. He is past the point of salvation, I am not. It’s an unwritten code in our- my line of work: the dead get left behind, the living move forward. ‘ _Alvos aptissimum’_ \- Survival of the fittest.

I lean forward and kiss his forehead. “This is goodbye. I love you, you were just like a brother to me.” I sigh, “I hope that you’re reunited with her again somewhere. Rest in peace, mejor amigo”.

I rise and realise something’s wrong. I heard footsteps about 10 minutes ago. Why haven’t they come in yet? Moving towards the door of the torture chamber, I vaguely remember shutting the door earlier when I was moving Mason to rest against a wall. The slight smell of tar hits my nostrils, it takes me a fraction of a second to realise where it’s coming from and dive out of the way as the door is blasted open with C4.

Sprawled on the floor with my hands over my head, I don’t see the flash-bang grenade rolling towards me until it explodes. I press my hands to my ears, nearly crushing my skull but I don’t care- anything to stop the impossibly loud ringing. I can’t hear anything. There are tears in my eyes from the noise. Everything slows down...

There’s only one door to escape from; the same door my attackers are going to be using any second to enter the cell. My bones feel like they’re made of lead and my muscles won’t listen to my brain. I steady myself against the wall and stand groggily, the ringing hasn’t quite stopped yet but I still get my bearings. I don’t have a gun. I can’t risk crossing the room to get a knife. I’ll have to take my chances....

Cautiously, I walk towards the, well _ex_ -door, the hole in the wall where the door was. Poor door, I think. I cock my head to the side but don’t hear anything from outside. Are they still there? I hear someone loading a clip into a gun and don’t wait another second. Sprinting, I burst out of the torture chamber and zip past two people in black ops gear. They stand in shock for a couple of seconds before speeding after me. They are good.

There are two: a man, probably late 20’s, early 30’s and a woman who seems to be in her late 30’s, maybe early 40’s. From the glance I caught of their faces I can only recall that one was tall and the other was shorter.

I dart around a corner and run down an enormous hallway. When I get half way across, I spare a glance behind me. The woman is saying something, her hand on her ear. She is communicating with somebody. This is not good. How many more of them are there? The man is catching up fast and I turn around, abandoning my plans at studying him. There is another door coming up and I barge into it, the flimsy thing is blown off it’s hinges. I carry on running until the corridor ends. Shit, it’s a dead end. No it’s not- there’s a my-sort-of size window and I see the fire escape ladder. YES! The tide has finally turned my way.

I take a step forward but my sixth sense screams at me and I turn around and deliver a powerful round house kick at the exact moment the male agent lunges for me. He collapses with a yell. It’s only too late I realise what he did. I hear a shout: “WARD!” This Ward is obviously well trained and informed extensively on my reputation. I can’t waste time killing him if I don’t want to be caught and now the other one-the female- knows my position. Stupid bastard. I resist the urge to kick him again in the ribs and dash into the window.

Yes, _into_. Glass smashes as I plunge downwards, but I’ve timed it perfectly. I twist in midair and grab the ladder with my hands. Legs splaying below me, I take the risk and let go. I can stand a broken leg but not capture, I can’t afford to let them take me- whoever _they_ happen to be. Luckily, I land on grass with a sore side and am up on my feet in seconds. I loop around the building so that I can reach the ladder near the left corner closest to me. I studied the plans of the warehouse’s infrastructure before coming here, making sure I had the maximum amount of exits planned in the case of an emergency. Like... um, NOW!

As I reach for the ladder, a helicopter flies directly overhead and I nearly have a heart attack until I see the pilot. Russell to the rescue! Here was me thinking he’d bailed on me. Although, he _was_ supposed to pick me up in Venice  tomorrow. So how did he know where to find me? Pushing that thought from my mind, I look up at him in the cockpit through the glass. He’s miming something to me: Ace? I shake my head and he gets the hint, his eyes saddening slightly. He turns to speak to somebody with him on the plane and a comms unit is thrown at me. Russell motions to the roof of the warehouse and signals that he will provide sky cover for me.

I nod my head to show him I understand. Euphoria streams through me as adrenaline pumps in my veins. I’m going home! After picking up the object which provides the only link to someone I actually trust enough to call family, I climb up the ladder as fast as I can go, mind only on the task at hand- no thoughts spared for the operatives after me and that is my biggest error.

You should always take into account your surroundings. As I reach half way up the ladder, shots ring against the metal frame the ladder is encased in and bullets embed themselves in the brick work. I stop for a fraction of a second, make my decision (slightly suicidal decision should I say) and half scramble the rest of the way up the ladder.

When I reach the top I search for Russell’s ‘copter and I see it hovering about 50 metres away from me, shooting at an unseen- from my viewpoint- object which is obscured by a small forest of trees. Suddenly, it’s as if a giant has let out a roar: fast winds sweep across the top of the trees and whip against the helicopter’s side and then everything goes wrong.

Huge dents appear in the metal framework of the chopper as booms declare the now obviously inescapable truth: there is no getting away from here for me, Russell is outgunned and outmatched. The comms unit in my ear suddenly crackles to life- I hadn’t even realised I had put it in my ear... I guess old habits die hard.

“Max, I’m- SHIT, what the fuck?”

I watch as the plane starts spiralling in the air.

“Russell, listen, you have to leave right now. Do you understand?” I say very, very calmly.

I wait for his reply. “Dude, shut the fuck up. Can you get to the- DUDE SHOOT THE FUCKERS!” He shouts.

“Who’s with you?” I ask, knowing full well who it might be.

“Jay, duh, who else. Okay, I’m gonna try to come over there and get you.” He announces.

I sigh, “Dude, what is the possibility that you can get the chopper here, get me and get all three of us out of here?”

“Well”, he retorts, “only about... 100%”

“I mean alive.” I state.

Silence. “Oh”, he replies, “that’s marginally lower”.

“Me and you both know that Jay is Sabina’s life, she is pregnant with his child and she will die if she loses him.” My voice breaks. Dangerous waters. “Sabina is like a little sister to me and whoever is responsible for her death will feel pain beyond measure”, my voice has become deadly quiet, I am serious, “you will leave here and get Jay back to her. And you will keep yourself safe.”

I can feel him deliberating and finally I hear him shout something at Jay. Russell has made the right decision and a smile plays across my face as the helicopter rises, straightens and then zooms into the distance. I can tell he’s angry with me. No man left behind. He didn’t even reply. I sigh. That’s a problem for another day.

Well that avenue’s closed. The question still remains: how the flippin’ hell do I get out of here?

I hear footsteps behind me and realise I am standing on the edge of the roof, staring in the direction the ‘copter disappeared. I whirl around and five metres away stands an emotionless man in a grey suit. Uh oh. Behind him stand the two agents from before- a Chinese lady who looks almost bored but stares at me and the guy who I kicked. He doesn’t look happy and if the glare he’s giving me is anything to go by, he’s not going to hold back if I give him any reason to attack.

The man in front takes a step forward towards me and on almost of a reflex, I take a step back. And nearly fall of the fucking roof. The two agents who chased me have slight smirks on their faces but the man in front looks, I dunno... concerned. I survey the area even though I already have the whole roof plan in my head, the roof is 100 metres long, with chimneys and walls of stacked bricks which would provide the perfect cover. There is a lake on the far side of the roof. 100 metres away. I could dive in. Plans are already formulating in my head as the man in front- seemingly the one in charge- speaks.

He speaks slowly, his voice full of serenity and tranquillity, “we are not here to hurt you Callum.” My head whips towards him. Nobody, _nobody_ knows that name. He nods his head at me, my reaction has not gone unnoticed. “My name is Agent Coulson and these are Agents May and Ward.” I stare at them all in turn, warily. “We are with SHIELD, and we would just like to -”. My mind was made up when he uttered the name of that organisation and my feet slap against the concrete as I bolt across the roof. A sharp pain suddenly registers with me as my left arm is shot. No blood. That’s strange. I look back and see all three striding towards me confidently.

Okay, let’s give these motherfuckers something to piss themselves on. I reach the end of the roof and stare down, shocked. Fuck!!! The lake is still there, no doubt about it, but metal rods are strategically placed around the lake, creating an electronic surge through the waters.

Basically, that ways is a no go, unless I want to die.

Dangerously depressing memories make their way to the surface of my mind and It’s like I’me reliving the horrors. So what if I jump? Who’s going to miss me?  I was dead a long time ago anyway. At least I’ll be with her... As I begin to take the final step into oblivion, Coulson speaks, “ Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”, I snort, didn’t realise we had the Buddha amongst us. “You’re young, you’re life is full of possibilities. We can help you but you have to let us”

I’m lost in thought now. Her face. Her eyes. The blood. It’s all flooding back now, all the memories I suppressed, locked away to keep me sane have broken free and it hurts. The anguish reaches my heart and it feels like a bomb is going off in my chest. Coulson sees my eyes and panics.

“It doesn’t have to end like this”, he implores.

“We’ve been invisible all our life so what’s the point now?” I mutter, just quiet enough for me and only me to hear.

“What?” he asks, confused, eyes darting to my arm.

I remember the bloodless pain and look down at my left sleeve. There’s a syringe poking out. Oh crap. My knees feel weak and have for a few minutes but I was too stubborn to acknowledge it. My head fogs and I struggle to stay upright. Seeing me fight against consciousness, the tall one- _Agent_ Ward walks towards me.

“No!” I gasp, taking a step closer to the edge.

Coulson puts his hands up and looks me in the eye. “It’s okay son, you’re safe here, we won’t hurt you I promise but you have to get away from there.”

I’m still staring into his blue eyes when I crumple, my legs unable to support me any longer. I would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for Coulson who is suddenly at my side, holding me in his arms as I lose my battle against the darkness.

I close my eyes...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVIEW PLEASE!!!! CLICK THE BUTTON AND WRITE A FEW WORDS TO BRIGHTEN UP MY DAY...


	6. Chapter Three: The Pain Inside (Blood on the Dancefloor: I Hope You Choke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreak. Deaths. Torture. Been there done it. Hell I've bought the frickin t-shirt. Wait what the fuck do I need a t-shirt for? Callum (better known as Max)- the assassin with a better hit-rate than Romanov and Barton put together. Seeing his best friend die before his very eyes he is caught by Agents of SHIELD. What happens when Skye recognises him? What happens when the dead come back to haunt him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, dunno when I can next update, snowed in under work and exam pressure. This is an extra long chapter to make up for it. Review please... 
> 
> Disclaimer- I don't own any of the Marvel characters, only Max, Ace, Jay and Russell.

_This world is just so fucked up, my life is just so messed up!/ Nothing makes sense in a world that is so dead. The bleeding in my heart are from these stitches that are falling apart/ You make me sick from all this shit/ How could you ever do this? I gave you my heart and you just ripped it apart/ I tasted your blood and you just wasted my love. You threw it away/ It was so fragile and fray._ _Silver & Gray/ Like judgement day.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   _ _I hope you choke/ I hope you know the pain inside just multiplies. I lost my grip/ I’m about to slit. Love is cruel, remember this. Protect yourself from the fighting fists/ Covered wrists/ So deep it fits. It’s killing me, it’s tearing me. I can’t forget/ I can’t regret._

* * *

 

I let myself go for the first time in 4 years. I sob shamelessly, draped over his dead body. Only once before have I felt such despair, hopelessness and anger. Guilt threatens to destroy me as the ‘what if’s’ start to creep in: what if I had gotten here earlier? What if I had killed _all_ the guards and done my job properly? What if? What if? What if...?

Feeling the bile rise up my throat, I jerk away from Mason’s corpse. Just in time. I vomit on the floor. The beginnings of a headache are starting to form- a sign that I need to stop over- stressing myself. _Keep it together._ I have to stop myself from falling apart, for the sake of his daughter, and for my own sake. But at this moment in time I can’t look away from the carcass in front of me. Even dead: the gentle smile sitting on his lips, the way his arms are wrapped around his waist. I know that had his eyes been open, there would be the unmistakeable twinkle of sarcasm- his way of calling somebody an idiot without opening his mouth.

Suppressing the sobs that threaten to break lose doesn’t work and as I sit there, broken, I sob my heart out as I remember all the good moments we shared, all the bad times we had each others’ backs- never again. Fury bubbles deep inside me as I think about what I’m going to do when I find the people responsible. Torture... and then a _very_ slow death.

I gather all the rage within and channel it. An ear-splitting scream of anguish and loss follows. By the time it’s finished, my voice is hoarse and my throat sore.

The sound of footsteps wakes me up from my slumber. I didn’t even realise I was asleep. No, not asleep, more like a trance. My body was in a daze to allow my brain to catch up with the events of today, to give my body a chance to rest without compromising my position or state.

Without pondering too much on who is outside- I can take anyone one- I gaze upon the body of my fallen comrade once again, for the very last time. I’m not stupid; I know I can’t take the body with me. Oh what I’d give to be able to bury him, but that’s a luxury I’m afraid I can’t afford. My life or his body is the choice I’m struck with. I’m alive and he’s dead. He is past the point of salvation, I am not. It’s an unwritten code in our- my line of work: the dead get left behind, the living move forward. ‘ _Alvos aptissimum’_ \- Survival of the fittest.

I lean forward and kiss his forehead. “This is goodbye. I love you, you were just like a brother to me.” I sigh, “I hope that you’re reunited with her again somewhere. Rest in peace, mejor amigo”.

I rise and realise something’s wrong. I heard footsteps about 10 minutes ago. Why haven’t they come in yet? Moving towards the door of the torture chamber, I vaguely remember shutting the door earlier when I was moving Mason to rest against a wall. The slight smell of tar hits my nostrils, it takes me a fraction of a second to realise where it’s coming from and dive out of the way as the door is blasted open with C4.

Sprawled on the floor with my hands over my head, I don’t see the flash-bang grenade rolling towards me until it explodes. I press my hands to my ears, nearly crushing my skull but I don’t care- anything to stop the impossibly loud ringing. I can’t hear anything. There are tears in my eyes from the noise. Everything slows down...

There’s only one door to escape from; the same door my attackers are going to be using any second to enter the cell. My bones feel like they’re made of lead and my muscles won’t listen to my brain. I steady myself against the wall and stand groggily, the ringing hasn’t quite stopped yet but I still get my bearings. I don’t have a gun. I can’t risk crossing the room to get a knife. I’ll have to take my chances....

Cautiously, I walk towards the, well _ex_ -door, the hole in the wall where the door was. Poor door, I think. I cock my head to the side but don’t hear anything from outside. Are they still there? I hear someone loading a clip into a gun and don’t wait another second. Sprinting, I burst out of the torture chamber and zip past two people in black ops gear. They stand in shock for a couple of seconds before speeding after me. They are good.

There are two: a man, probably late 20’s, early 30’s and a woman who seems to be in her late 30’s, maybe early 40’s. From the glance I caught of their faces I can only recall that one was tall and the other was shorter.

I dart around a corner and run down an enormous hallway. When I get half way across, I spare a glance behind me. The woman is saying something, her hand on her ear. She is communicating with somebody. This is not good. How many more of them are there? The man is catching up fast and I turn around, abandoning my plans at studying him. There is another door coming up and I barge into it, the flimsy thing is blown off it’s hinges. I carry on running until the corridor ends. Shit, it’s a dead end. No it’s not- there’s a my-sort-of size window and I see the fire escape ladder. YES! The tide has finally turned my way.

I take a step forward but my sixth sense screams at me and I turn around and deliver a powerful round house kick at the exact moment the male agent lunges for me. He collapses with a yell. It’s only too late I realise what he did. I hear a shout: “WARD!” This Ward is obviously well trained and informed extensively on my reputation. I can’t waste time killing him if I don’t want to be caught and now the other one-the female- knows my position. Stupid bastard. I resist the urge to kick him again in the ribs and dash into the window.

Yes, _into_. Glass smashes as I plunge downwards, but I’ve timed it perfectly. I twist in midair and grab the ladder with my hands. Legs splaying below me, I take the risk and let go. I can stand a broken leg but not capture, I can’t afford to let them take me- whoever _they_ happen to be. Luckily, I land on grass with a sore side and am up on my feet in seconds. I loop around the building so that I can reach the ladder near the left corner closest to me. I studied the plans of the warehouse’s infrastructure before coming here, making sure I had the maximum amount of exits planned in the case of an emergency. Like... um, NOW!

As I reach for the ladder, a helicopter flies directly overhead and I nearly have a heart attack until I see the pilot. Russell to the rescue! Here was me thinking he’d bailed on me. Although, he _was_ supposed to pick me up in Venice  tomorrow. So how did he know where to find me? Pushing that thought from my mind, I look up at him in the cockpit through the glass. He’s miming something to me: Ace? I shake my head and he gets the hint, his eyes saddening slightly. He turns to speak to somebody with him on the plane and a comms unit is thrown at me. Russell motions to the roof of the warehouse and signals that he will provide sky cover for me.

I nod my head to show him I understand. Euphoria streams through me as adrenaline pumps in my veins. I’m going home! After picking up the object which provides the only link to someone I actually trust enough to call family, I climb up the ladder as fast as I can go, mind only on the task at hand- no thoughts spared for the operatives after me and that is my biggest error.

You should always take into account your surroundings. As I reach half way up the ladder, shots ring against the metal frame the ladder is encased in and bullets embed themselves in the brick work. I stop for a fraction of a second, make my decision (slightly suicidal decision should I say) and half scramble the rest of the way up the ladder.

When I reach the top I search for Russell’s ‘copter and I see it hovering about 50 metres away from me, shooting at an unseen- from my viewpoint- object which is obscured by a small forest of trees. Suddenly, it’s as if a giant has let out a roar: fast winds sweep across the top of the trees and whip against the helicopter’s side and then everything goes wrong.

Huge dents appear in the metal framework of the chopper as booms declare the now obviously inescapable truth: there is no getting away from here for me, Russell is outgunned and outmatched. The comms unit in my ear suddenly crackles to life- I hadn’t even realised I had put it in my ear... I guess old habits die hard.

“Max, I’m- SHIT, what the fuck?”

I watch as the plane starts spiralling in the air.

“Russell, listen, you have to leave right now. Do you understand?” I say very, very calmly.

I wait for his reply. “Dude, shut the fuck up. Can you get to the- DUDE SHOOT THE FUCKERS!” He shouts.

“Who’s with you?” I ask, knowing full well who it might be.

“Jay, duh, who else. Okay, I’m gonna try to come over there and get you.” He announces.

I sigh, “Dude, what is the possibility that you can get the chopper here, get me and get all three of us out of here?”

“Well”, he retorts, “only about... 100%”

“I mean alive.” I state.

Silence. “Oh”, he replies, “that’s marginally lower”.

“Me and you both know that Jay is Sabina’s life, she is pregnant with his child and she will die if she loses him.” My voice breaks. Dangerous waters. “Sabina is like a little sister to me and whoever is responsible for her death will feel pain beyond measure”, my voice has become deadly quiet, I am serious, “you will leave here and get Jay back to her. And you will keep yourself safe.”

I can feel him deliberating and finally I hear him shout something at Jay. Russell has made the right decision and a smile plays across my face as the helicopter rises, straightens and then zooms into the distance. I can tell he’s angry with me. No man left behind. He didn’t even reply. I sigh. That’s a problem for another day.

Well that avenue’s closed. The question still remains: how the flippin’ hell do I get out of here?

I hear footsteps behind me and realise I am standing on the edge of the roof, staring in the direction the ‘copter disappeared. I whirl around and five metres away stands an emotionless man in a grey suit. Uh oh. Behind him stand the two agents from before- a Chinese lady who looks almost bored but stares at me and the guy who I kicked. He doesn’t look happy and if the glare he’s giving me is anything to go by, he’s not going to hold back if I give him any reason to attack.

The man in front takes a step forward towards me and on almost of a reflex, I take a step back. And nearly fall of the fucking roof. The two agents who chased me have slight smirks on their faces but the man in front looks, I dunno... concerned. I survey the area even though I already have the whole roof plan in my head, the roof is 100 metres long, with chimneys and walls of stacked bricks which would provide the perfect cover. There is a lake on the far side of the roof. 100 metres away. I could dive in. Plans are already formulating in my head as the man in front- seemingly the one in charge- speaks.

He speaks slowly, his voice full of serenity and tranquillity, “we are not here to hurt you Callum.” My head whips towards him. Nobody, _nobody_ knows that name. He nods his head at me, my reaction has not gone unnoticed. “My name is Agent Coulson and these are Agents May and Ward.” I stare at them all in turn, warily. “We are with SHIELD, and we would just like to -”. My mind was made up when he uttered the name of that organisation and my feet slap against the concrete as I bolt across the roof. A sharp pain suddenly registers with me as my left arm is shot. No blood. That’s strange. I look back and see all three striding towards me confidently.

Okay, let’s give these motherfuckers something to piss themselves on. I reach the end of the roof and stare down, shocked. Fuck!!! The lake is still there, no doubt about it, but metal rods are strategically placed around the lake, creating an electronic surge through the waters.

Basically, that ways is a no go, unless I want to die.

Dangerously depressing memories make their way to the surface of my mind and It’s like I’me reliving the horrors. So what if I jump? Who’s going to miss me?  I was dead a long time ago anyway. At least I’ll be with her... As I begin to take the final step into oblivion, Coulson speaks, “ Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”, I snort, didn’t realise we had the Buddha amongst us. “You’re young, you’re life is full of possibilities. We can help you but you have to let us”

I’m lost in thought now. Her face. Her eyes. The blood. It’s all flooding back now, all the memories I suppressed, locked away to keep me sane have broken free and it hurts. The anguish reaches my heart and it feels like a bomb is going off in my chest. Coulson sees my eyes and panics.

“It doesn’t have to end like this”, he implores.

“We’ve been invisible all our life so what’s the point now?” I mutter, just quiet enough for me and only me to hear.

“What?” he asks, confused, eyes darting to my arm.

I remember the bloodless pain and look down at my left sleeve. There’s a syringe poking out. Oh crap. My knees feel weak and have for a few minutes but I was too stubborn to acknowledge it. My head fogs and I struggle to stay upright. Seeing me fight against consciousness, the tall one- _Agent_ Ward walks towards me.

“No!” I gasp, taking a step closer to the edge.

Coulson puts his hands up and looks me in the eye. “It’s okay son, you’re safe here, we won’t hurt you I promise but you have to get away from there.”

I’m still staring into his blue eyes when I crumple, my legs unable to support me any longer. I would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for Coulson who is suddenly at my side, holding me in his arms as I lose my battle against the darkness.

I close my eyes...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVIEW PLEASE!!!! CLICK THE BUTTON AND WRITE A FEW WORDS TO BRIGHTEN UP MY DAY...


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